In Too Deep
by Ana Kudou
Summary: Severus learns too late that Harry is an addiction he can\'t live without. Sequel to Right Kind of Wrong and Gunning Down Romance. Warning: Slash
1. First Kiss

In Too Deep: First Kiss 

Title: In Too Deep 

Author: Ana Kudou 

Rating: R 

Disclaimer: Well, spiffy, I don't own them. ^___^ 

In Too Deep: First Kiss 

Watching him move around his classroom, so elegant, so graceful, is like torture. He gestures to something and I find my gaze caught by his hand, remembering a different day. 

*** 

"Potter!" 

I jump, startled, suddenly realizing that I'd fallen asleep in Potions. Smart, Harry, real smart, I think to myself. I look up and gulp, seeing him looming over me, a sneer on his face. 

"Napping, Potter?" 

"Sorry, Professor Snape." I try to keep my voice neutral as I respond. Let's not make this any worse than it has to be. 

"Detention. And five points from Gryffindor." He turns and stalks away, robes flowing. 

I sigh. Detention. It can't be that bad. 

After dinner I make my way down to the Potions room. Hopefully it'll just be something like cleaning, or doing some horribly hard potion. I mean, it's not like he's going to - I resolutely drag my mind away from that possiblilty, cursing the day I ever realized that I was attracted to him. Yeah, attracted to Severus Snape, Potions Master of Hogwarts. My teacher. The teacher who hates me. Oh lucky, lucky me. 

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open, to find him waiting for me. He lifts an eyebrow and I swallow, really hoping my face isn't as easy to read as I think it is. He lifts one long fingered hand and gestures to the lab counter, where some ingredients are sitting out. 

"Since you felt that you knew enough about this potion that you didn't need to pay attention while I was explaining how to prepare it, I'd like you to make it." He smirks, knowing he's got me there. At least I brought my potions book. 

*** 

I shake my head, bringing myself back to the present. We may be together, but if I start daydreaming in his class, I'll still get detention. I suppose that's only right. I glance over as Neville gives a yelp, having stung himself with one of the ingredients we're currently learning about. I smile a little, my mind promptly wandering off again. 

*** 

"Ow!" I drop the leaf I was holding as a bit of the potion splashes on my hand, stinging as it burns me. He's by my side in an instant, his hand catching mine. 

"Potter, things that are boiling are hot." 

I glower up at him, trying not to think about his hand holding mine. 

"Stay here, I'll get something to treat that with." He ducks into his office leaving me alone. 

Treat it? I blink, startled. I hadn't thought he'd do that. Before I can gather my scattered wits, he's back, taking my hand in his again. 

"This will sting a little," he says softly, smearing a little cream from a small jar onto the burn on my hand. He's right, it does. I bite my lip, and look anywhere but at him. 

He's still holding my hand, I realize, and I glance up at him, my eyes wide. This wasn't something I expected. His eyes are locked on my face, looking at me with a strange heat in them that I've never seen before. I'm suddenly aware of just how close together we are, and feel my face flushing. 

"P-professor….." I wince, cursing myself for stuttering. 

He drops my hand, turning away. 

"Forget it, Potter." His voice sounds tired. "Just finish the potion." 

I bite my lip, watching him. I shouldn't have said anything. 

"Professor," I say softly, wishing he'd look at me again. 

His hand clenches, and I wonder what he's thinking. I open my mouth to say something else, I forget what, and the next thing I know his lips are on mine, claiming my mouth in a bruising kiss. 

I make a small sound and slip my arms around him, pressing close to him as my brain yells at me to think about what I'm doing. 

*** 

I realize that I've been staring off into space with a goofy grin on my face and quickly bring my attention back to his lecture. Luckily he didn't catch my wandering attention. Not that I would have minded getting detention. I grin to myself. Especially not if it turned out the same as that time he kissed me. 

TBC 

*runs and hides*…Okay…now you can kill me. 

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	2. Addicted to You

In Too Deep: Addicted to You 

In Too Deep: Addicted to You 

It's late, and I find myself wondering if he's even coming. Just as I resign myself to an evening alone, my door opens and he's standing there, hesitant. 

"Severus?" 

"Come in," I say, holding out a hand to him. He has no right to be so beautiful, I think, watching him slip over to me. His hand is soft as I take it in mine, his green eyes watching me with a bit of shyness. 

"Still so shy?" I find myself asking him, a little half smile tugging at my lips. 

He blushes and looks down. Suddenly I don't feel like talking anymore. Talking just reminds me of who he is. I pull him down into my arms roughly, kissing him hard. His arms wrap around me as he responds, leaning into my kiss. I feel the passion taking over, and can't help but marvel at the way he responds to me, his body arching to my hands. He's so passionate, so uninhibited. Was I ever like that? 

I carry him to my bed and lay him down, stripping him of his clothing. My heart skips a beat and I have to remind myself to breath as I look down at him. 

"So beautiful," I murmur, and trace a line down his chest, watching his body arch off the bed, his eyes slide shut, and his lips part in a soft moan of pleasure. Oh, this is sin. It has to be. 

"Severus," he moans softly, reaching for me, his eyes nearly black with desire. 

Smiling faintly, I respond to his unspoken plea, divesting myself of my robe and sliding into the bed with him. "Something you wanted?" I watch him from under half lidded eyes. 

"…Y-you…" He rolls to face me, reaching out towards me and I can't stand it. I catch his hand, pinning them above him. 

"…Yes." He arches, closing his eyes. I'll never get over the fact that he likes being dominated so much. Of course, right now, I shouldn't be thinking, just acting. 

When I take him, it's not about who we are anymore. It's about losing ourselves in the heat and passion that overwhelms us. It's fast and brutal, slamming through our senses and leaving us both exhausted. I pull out of him, letting him go and he curls up, just like a cat, nuzzling against me. Seconds later, he's sound asleep. 

I look down at him, his face still flushed with pleasure, and for the first time feel a stab of guilt. Why do I keep doing this? Why can't I just put an end to it? It's not healthy for either of us, I know that much. Yet I can't go a day without taking him somewhere. My office, the astronomy tower, anywhere I can catch him alone. He's addicting. A drug I need to stop doing. After all, it's just lust. Isn't it? 

TBC 

*meeps and hides again* Well, I guess it's gone up to an R rating. *sighs* so much for trying to keep it relatively clean. 

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	3. Perfection in Dreams

In Too Deep: Perfection in Dreams 

In Too Deep: Perfection in Dreams 

I like the night. Not just because it's when I can see him, but also because it's when I can dream. Tonight, as I slip into his rooms, he's sitting waiting for me, and my heart skips a beat. He looks so beautiful with the candlelight softening his features. 

"Severus," I say softly, reverently. 

"Come in," He says softly, holding his hand out to me. And I go to him, helplessly, wanting to lose myself in his arms. I feel myself blushing, and watch his lips twitch in an attempt not to smile. 

"Still so shy?" He asks me, and I blush more, looking down. Then his lips are on mine, hot and demanding, and all I can do is moan and give myself over to his control. Coherent thought becomes a thing of the past as he lays me down on his bed, my clothing having vanished somewhere between the chair and the bed. 

"So beautiful," He says softly, trailing his hand over my chest. I arch to the touch, wanting more, feeling desperate for him. He slips out of his clothing and I bite my lip, watching him. He's so beautiful. Ron would think I was insane for thinking so, I think to myself, but then he's next to me, and I reach for him. His hands pin me to the bed, and I shudder, knowing what's coming. As his lips trail over my skin, I try to lose myself. This time, though, I can't. I need more, I need him. 

"Severus," I whimper, writhing under him. 

Again, he reacts to what I cannot say, and he's in me. I moan and writhe, and still it's not enough. Hard and fast; nothing sweet or loving about the way he takes me. His hand clench around my wrists and I stifle a little noise. It hurts, and I know I'll have bruises. I like it though, the pain. It keeps what we're doing sharp and real to me. His teeth close on a nipple, and I cry out. 

Now it's over, and I curl up, nuzzling against him, and he lets me, knowing I like to cuddle. Sighing softly, I allow my eyes to drift shut, drifting away from the real world and into the place between sleep and awake. He's watching me, I know. I can feel his gaze on me. I feel sated, drowsy, but something is missing. 

My heart aches as I lay there, and I wish that for once I'd be courageous enough to say those three little words. I must have frowned, because his hands dance lightly through my hair, a soothing gesture. I think he cares for me. He certainly seems to. Though I wish he'd take me in his arms, cuddle me as I snuggle against him. But that's not like him. It can't hurt to dream though, can it? 

I allow myself to drift further towards sleep, thinking fuzzily about how I feel. I love him, I know that. I can't live without him anymore. Sleep is coming faster now, I can't hold it off. I turn my face into the pillow, fighting the urge to cry. I love him. I need him. I want to be with him always. Maybe someday… 

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	4. Death of Dreams

In Too Deep: Death of Dreams 

In Too Deep: Death of Dreams 

It's early. I should still be sleeping. He is, sprawled over my bed, taking up far more space than is physically possible, and completely tangled in the sheets. For some reason, instead of being an endearing sight, my heart gives a painful lurch and I feel almost ill. Curse you, James, for leaving your son to me, for giving him your looks. 

I scowl at the figure in the bed, wishing he would wake, or just vanish. Part of me objects, but is ruthlessly squashed by the black humor that has settled on me. I want to see him hurt, as I was hurt, so many years ago. Cruel, I suppose, wanting to take my revenge on him. 

*** 

"Are you hurt?" 

Your blue eyes looking down at me in worry, as I pant for breath, shaken and terrified after what just happened. 

"It was just a prank…Sorry to have scared you. If I'd have known what Sirius was up to…Here, lets get you to the infirmary." 

Just a prank? I snarl at him and push him away, my heart breaking at those words. I pulled myself to my feet and stalk away, face set in a scowl. 

*** 

I feel that same scowl twisting my features now as I watch your son sprawled across my bed. He wakes, those green eyes blinking open and looking up at me, and then a sweet smile spreads across his face. Can I do it? Can I hurt him? 

I frown at him, and that smile falters, fading, turning into a look of confusion. He sits up, his hair tousled, and his face flushed still from sleep. 

"Severus?" His voice is hesitant, questioning me. 

"Go, Harry." I turn away from him, refusing to look at him. 

I hear the sounds of cloth sliding over skin, and then he lays a light hand on my arm. "When will I see you again?" 

I turn to find him looking up at me with hopeful eyes. I feel my scowl deepening. "You won't." 

Green eyes go wide, staring up at me. "But-" 

"I was just trying to rid myself of my past." I find a sneer somewhere. "You do look so very much like your father, you know. Or did you honestly think I cared?" 

That did it. Those eyes fill with tears that he valiantly keeps from shedding. "So you were just…it was just because I looked like my father? This all…meant nothing to you?" He keeps his voice casual, trying not to react. 

"That's right, Potter." I move away from him, straightening my room up, anything to keep from looking at him and taking it all back. This is harder than I thought. "And now it's over. You should be getting back before your little friends realize you're gone." 

Silence from the other side of the room, then the sound of my door opening and shutting, taking him out of my life, probably forever. 

*** 

I find myself staring at him, feeling the tears flood into my eyes as he says those words, those hateful words. All a lie, it was all a lie? It's all I can do to keep from bursting into tears and running from the room. Forcing the words out and trying hard to mask the pain in my voice, I ask, "So you were just…it was just because I looked like my father? This all…meant nothing to you?" 

He pulls away from me, sneer fixed into place as he says what I am pleading with him not to say. "That's right Potter. And now it's over. You should be getting back before your little friends realize you're gone." 

That's it. I can't take anymore. Somehow I keep myself from running, at least until I'm out of his rooms. Then I run, run as if I can leave it all behind me, the tears that I tried so hard to keep back spilling over and running freely down my face, blurring my vision. I stumble up a flight of stairs and sob out the password to the Fat Lady, throwing myself through the portrait hole and up into the safety of my bed, feeling as though I'll never stop hurting. 

I clutch my pillow tightly and cry into it, muffling my sobs. "All a lie…it was all a lie..." 

TBC 

Wai! *dusts off her angst fairy wand* Well, that turned out better than I thought it would. Comments? Death threats? 

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	5. Aftermath

In Too Deep: Aftermath 

In Too Deep: Aftermath 

I don't know how long I've lain here. Soon it'll be time for breakfast, and I'll have to get up and face the world. My heart lurches again as I return again and again to those words "it's over." How could I do this? How could I go on without him? 

"Severus," I whisper into my pillow, now thoroughly soaked with tears. 

An hour or so later, the anger kicked in, followed by the depression. I hate him. God, I hate him. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him. No, kill him. I bury my face in the pillow as I start to cry again. I can't deal with this. I'll see him at breakfast, I know I will, and everything he said, everything that's happened will come back. Something inside me snaps at that point, and everything goes numb. It's a nice feeling, I realize, and I sit up, still hugging my pillow. Maybe I can do this after all. Live without him, that is. 

I look up, startled, as Ron tugs my curtains aside. 

"Har-God, what happened to you!? You look like hell!" His startled exclamation makes the numb feeling go away and I try not to start crying again. 

"Nothing. I…I had a nightmare." The lie comes easily. No use telling my best friend that the teacher he still, no we still hate the most just broke my heart. 

He gives me a look that says he doesn't believe me, but for once, he doesn't pry. "Well…you're going to be late to breakfast if you don't hurry up." 

Gratefully, I climb out of bed, going about the daily routine numbly, only half aware of what I'm doing. It's not until Ron stops me and takes my shoes away that I realize I nearly put them on the wrong feet. 

"What's wrong, Harry? I've never seen you like this before." He looks worried. Not that I can blame him. Apparently, my brain has forgotten how to do so many simple things. 

I smile at him, and he flinches. Must not have been a very good smile then. But I can't answer that question. I really can't. And of course he hasn't seen me like this before. I'd never been betrayed like this. Hurt like this. Never been in love, not really. So, "it's nothing," I say. 

He sighs, and steers me towards the door. "C'mon, then. But tell me sometime, would you, Harry?" 

I nod absently, letting him steer me towards the Great Hall as my mind wanders. Did he really mean that it was over? Did he really mean for it to end like this? Or is he hurting too? Then I recall the look on his face, that sneer, and I shake my head a little. No, he's not hurting. It didn't mean a thing to him. I was just his little toy. Just something to be used and thrown away. The thought makes a bitter rush of anger flow through me, and I pull away from Ron, moving on my own now. That's right. I'm nothing to him. Nothing. 

*** 

I look up from my plate as he enters the hall, and the sight of him makes me flinch inwardly. He looks awful, eyes dark and puffy from crying, his face pale. Evidently I misjudged how much it meant to him. Odd that he should care for me so much. I sip at my juice, trying to eat around the lump of guilt that's settled in my stomach. It was the right thing, I tell myself over and over again. It never should have happened in the first place. Better break it off now than get us both kicked out of Hogwarts. 

I glance down at the table where he's sitting and notice that he's not eating, just playing with the food that his friends keep plying him with. He's currently shredding a roll absently, as if totally unaware of what he's doing. It was the right thing, I tell myself yet again. Really, it was. He'll get over it, he's young. He'll find someone else. Someone better. 

I feel a surge of jealousy at the thought of anyone else having him, kissing him, claiming him as their own. He's mine. But he's not. I let him go. It was really for the best. Besides, it's what I wanted. I wanted this, to see him hurt. Wanted to know that it would drive James crazy to see him like this. 

Abruptly I stand and stalk out of the hall, unable to stand it any longer. I feel his gaze on me as I go, and hunch my shoulders, seeking the safety of my dungeons. 

*** 

He's leaving. He can't even stand to be in the same room as me. I realize that I've been shredding a piece of bread between my hands when I run out of bits to rip. Clenching my hands in my lap, I look down at my plate, ignoring the worried looks I'm getting from all around me. I feel the tears building again and I stand abruptly, almost running from the hall. I can't do this. I can't…live. 

I find myself in the dungeons and freeze, not wanting to run into him. Memories are all around me, memories of his skin against mine, his lips tracing lines of fire down my body and I shiver, confused and hurt. Wanting him. Wrapping my arms around myself, I curl up in a corner, not caring anymore if someone comes back, just huddled in a little ball of misery, trying, but unable to erase the memories of him from my mind. 

TBC 

Yes. Well, five parts now. Oi, I like writing this better than trying to memorize kanji. I suppose that's a bad thing. ^^;; Oh well! Hope you like it. 

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	6. In Too Deep

In Too Deep: Pain of Separation 

In Too Deep: Pain of Separation 

Once I reach my rooms I lean my forehead against the wall, hoping the cool stone will freeze my headache. I hurt. Why do I hurt? I meant to hurt him, not myself. But my hands itch to hold him, and the image of his pale, tear streaked face is stuck in my memory, taunting me. Through my open door I hear the sounds of someone sobbing softly, and it takes a minute before I realize it's him. 

I walk to the door and look out in the hallway, catching a glimpse of a little huddled shadow in a far corner. The sobs are heartbroken, pitiful little sounds, each one cutting deep into my heart. A brief bit of pain makes me look down; my nails have dug deep into my skin as I clenched my hands. Why does he have this effect on me? I don't understand. I look up again as the sobs change, getting hoarser. Poor thing, he's crying himself sick. 

I stop myself from going to him, but just barely. Why do I feel the need to comfort him? Seeing him in pain like this doesn't bring me the sense of satisfaction I thought it would. Instead, I feel empty, dirty for having done that to him. My arms ache to hold him, and my heart aches to see him so sad. This is wrong. I cannot feel this for him. I rest my head against the wall again, closing my eyes and trying to close my ears to the sounds of his sobs. 

Gradually they fade. Either he's left, or he's fallen asleep, curled up in the corner like that. Personally, I think the latter is far more possible, and stop myself from going to see. He's not my problem anymore. Not my problem. I turn that phrase over in my mind. He is my problem. Somehow he's gotten into me, in a way that I never imagined. It hurts, being separated from him like this. Knowing that tonight, when I am ready for bed, there will be no willing, beautiful boy to hold and touch, to love until we're both exhausted. Somehow in my quest to use him, to hurt him, to get to him like his father got to me, I was had as well. I curse softly as I realize this, realize that I need him far more than I let on. He's my angel. I cannot wish him happiness with anyone else. I want him with me. Just with me. 

Before I realize what I'm doing, I'm halfway down the hall to where his slender form is curled up into a little ball, asleep, like I thought. I come to my senses and stop, but close enough that I can see the pain written in his features, the way his fine brows are drawn together in an expression of bleak sadness. He looks like a tragic heroine from some Shakespearean play. I kneel by him, reaching out towards him with a shaking hand. Wrong or not, I need him. I know that. But will he still want me after what I said to him? 

I touch his face lightly, wiping away the last traces of tears and he opens his eyes, looking up at me. For a moment, I think he's going to smile, and then he jerks away from my touch. 

"S-stay away from me!" There is bitter anger in those words, and I sigh, knowing he has every right to hate me now. "Did you just come to hurt me again? I don't want to hear it!" 

"Harry-" 

"What, not Potter anymore? " He's crying again now, tears of anger and pain as he lashes out at me. "I-I don't need you either! I don't!" He struggles to his feet and pushes past me, and I catch his arms before he can get out of reach. 

"I wanted to say I'm sorry." Quietly, I say those words, knowing they won't be enough to heal the rift between us. 

He stops and looks up at me, still upset, but quiet. 

"I'm sorry, Harry. I…wanted to hurt you, because your father hurt me. I shouldn't have done it." 

"It…still meant nothing though, didn't it." Those words are spoken softly, and I realize with a jolt that it really had meant a lot to him. 

"It…meant something," I admit hesitantly. 

He looks up at me, hope flashing in his eyes for a moment before he shakes his eyes, dropping his gaze from my face. "Not what it meant to me," he says, and pulls away from my grasp. Before I can stop him he's gone, vanished like smoke on the wind, and I am left alone with my guilt and pain. 

TBC 

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